


Better the Devil

by xzombiexkittenx



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Awesome Alana Bloom, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Hannibal to the Rescue, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:59:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4362218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xzombiexkittenx/pseuds/xzombiexkittenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from Digestivo. Alana, Margot, and Hannibal rescue Will and get Mason's sperm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better the Devil

They could have just let Hannibal go. Alana might as well have cut loose the collar, the ropes torquing his arms backwards, everything, for all the distance she and Margot put between themselves and Hannibal. They want what Mason has, and Hannibal wants Will. Of course it's too late to do anything cleanly. Everyone is in one place. Cordell is just starting to cut into Will's face, Mason unconscious on the table next to him. Alana's honestly surprised he didn't stay awake for that part. 

She and Margot are frozen outside the surgery. They can't get past Cordell. He's as big a monster as Hannibal, as Mason, as Will might be. It's ugly though, in a way Hannibal never was, not even that night. Cordell is all sick glee, rejoicing in the subjugation of those weaker than him. Hannibal's done his fair share of gloating, but not like that. 

Margot is weeping with impotent rage, mascara down her cheeks. She looks worn thin, the edges of her starting to fray.

Hannibal comes up behind them, he puts a bloody hand on Margot's shoulder as he passes, but he doesn't really look at either of them. He's dressed, sweater sticking to the branding on his back. 

"Stop now," Hannibal says, giving up his advantage to save Will's face.

Cordell's scalpel lifts away from Will's face, blood dripping onto the floor.

"Doctor Lecter," Cordell says. He's not happy. He's not the kind of bully who wants to fight someone in his own weight class.

"I suppose a little tenderization won't hurt," Cordell says.

Hannibal's mouth quirks up in a half-smile. He lunges for Cordell. Alana never forgot how fast he is. Cordell is surprised by it. They crash together, the scalpel skittering across the floor. Hannibal twists Cordell's wrist until something snaps and ducks under a punch that would have knocked him flat.

Margot grabs onto Alana's hand. "Oh," she says, desperate.

Cordell is bigger, younger, and he hasn't been tortured. Alana would still put her money on Hannibal.

She talked to Gideon, before Hannibal ate him piece by piece. "Anyone who gets close, gets got," he'd said. "That's what Will told me. So back away, Doctor Bloom, before it's too late."

And Cordell dared to touch what Hannibal considers to be his. No one gets to hurt Will but him.

Hannibal still has the knife from the barn. He opens up a red line on Cordell's chest, slicing through his scrubs. Cordell grabs his arm, taking the knife to his bicep with little more than a wince.

Hannibal twists to keep Cordell from dislocating his shoulder, but she can see Hannibal's lips are drawn back from his teeth in a snarl and he's breathing hard. He headbutts Cordell, angling for more space, but Cordell doesn't let go. They stagger towards Alana and Margot. One of the cuts on Hannibal's face has opened up again and is dripping blood into his eyes. 

Alana takes two steps forward and swings her cane like a baseball bat.

Cordell goes down hard.

Hannibal straightens up, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of one wrist. "Nice aim," he says.

Alana stands over Cordell while Hannibal gently slides the cannula from the back of Will's hand and unbuckles Will's restraints.

Hannibal checks Will's vitals, smoothes his hair, and then gets one arm under Will's knees, the other holding his shoulders, and lifts him off the table. He's so careful as he sits Will on a chair and tucks a blanket around his bare body. 

Will breathes heavily, controlled gasps for air, calming himself down. He's staring at Hannibal, like he's trying to say something. Hannibal smiles fondly at him. "Don't worry," he says. "We both know better now. You cannot kill me any more than I can kill you." It sounds like a proclamation laid down in stone. Hannibal has made his final decision. 

Hannibal glances at Alana, daring her to argue in Will's defence. Alana clenches her teeth. Everything she did, to save herself, to save Will, all the dead lying around them, and Hannibal still has Will caught in his jaws.

"There's a cattle prod in the barn," Hannibal says to Margot. "Please get it."

Alana doesn't want to leave Margot alone with him. She doesn't want to be left alone with him. "You're faster," she says to Margot, swallowing her fear. Margot takes off running, heels skidding on the tiled floor.

She watches as Hannibal uses a dead man's lift to get Cordell off the ground and onto the table where Will was. She wonders how much dead weight he can carry. He's had so much practice. The needle that was in Will's arm goes into Cordell's.

Hannibal gives Alana space, a hollow courtesy, as he stalks over to Mason. He rolls Mason onto his side with ease.

Margot comes back, face flushed, snow dusting her hair, already melting. She has the cattle prod in one hand, fingers gripped tightly on the trigger.

Hannibal raises his eyebrows at her. "Would you like to do the honours, or would you prefer I do it?"

"What?" Margot asks and when Hannibal reaches out, her startled, instinctive flinch sparks the cattle prod. It crackles loudly, blue electricity like contained lightning.

"When you stimulate the prostate gland you can force a release of semen," Hannibal explains, staying where he is. "I thought you might prefer that to anything else. All things considered."

He's surprisingly delicate with Margot's trauma, for all that he urges her to kill Mason. Alana's loathe to agree with Hannibal about anything, but when you've got a mad dog, you have to put it down.

"I can help you," he says. "Or you can do it yourself."

Alana puts her fingers on Will's pulse and finds it beating calmly now, slowly. He doesn't care what happens to Mason. It belatedly occurs to Alana that he was there when Mason ate his own face. He stood by indifferently, and he's more than happy to do so again.

"I..." Margot says, looking at the unconscious body of her tormentor. Margot's fingers relax, and she gives the cattle prod to Hannibal.

"There's a phial on the table over there," Hannibal says. He washes his hands in the sink, fastidious as always, before snapping medical gloves on, passing Alana and Margot each a pair.

"He's paralyzed," Margot says. "No feeling at all from the waist down. You don't have to be gentle."

Hannibal first finds Mason's prostate with his fingers.

"You seem practiced at that," Alana says, thinking uncharitable things about Will and Hannibal. Hannibal winks at her. She wants to strangle him.

Then Hannibal inserts the cattle prod. Hannibal isn't gentle. He's efficient though. Alana holds Mason's penis, Margot holds the phial. It doesn't take very long.

Hannibal removes the cattle prod, pulls Mason's pants up and heaves him into his wheelchair like a sack of potatoes. He's done with Mason, already uninterested in his final fate. 

Hannibal changes his gloves. Hannibal picks through the surgical instruments on the tray with great consideration.

"Would you mind terribly if I indulge myself a little? Give Mason a little scare when he wakes up."

"Knock yourself out," Margot says. She walks away without looking back, the life she stole back held tenderly to the warmth of her skin.

Will stirs in his chair. "You should go," Will says to Alana, words slurred. 

As compulsively polite Hannibal is, Will is not. She didn't expect thanks, not really, but she did help save him from having his face removed. She let Hannibal free, just to save him. What a clusterfuck.

"Perhaps we will see each other again," Hannibal says to her. She holds her breath as he comes closer. He kisses her cheek. "I am grateful for your assistance." He can't help but to twist the knife. Letting him free was the lesser of two evils, but not by very much. He knows she'll regret the way things turned out. He knows she didn't want it to go like this. 

She meets Hannibal's eyes and doesn't brain him as well. "You're welcome," she says, and turns her back even though it makes her skin crawl. She limps after Margot.

When Hannibal is done with Cordell, he collects Will and carries him out into the night, unconscious now from the stress, the drugs, exhaustion. Maybe Hannibal gave him something.

Alana and Margot watch him trudge out into the snow, disappearing into the dark. She wonders what you're supposed to do when the devil falls in love with you. 

"You don't have to stay," Margot offers. She's beautiful and Alana wants to protect her from any more ugliness. Alana's got steel in her spine now. Well, titanium, but still. Margot has held up as long as she can but much more pressure and she'll shatter. Alana won't stand by and watch that happen.

Alana kisses her. "I know," Alana says. "But I want to. Let's finish this."

Will might never claw his way free, but Margot can. Alana can help her save herself. That's worth a lot.


End file.
